


Best Worst Date

by NeroIris



Series: Minewt AUs [13]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeroIris/pseuds/NeroIris
Summary: When Minho's first date goes horribly, he has his attractive waiter to thank for saving the night.





	Best Worst Date

Minho was nervous, to say the least. He’d been talking to this _beautiful_ girl for weeks now and they were _finally_ meeting in person. And she was late. Of course. She wouldn’t stand him up, would she? Oh god, of course she stood him up. Why didn’t she call? Why didn’t she-

“Minho?” He heared a hesitant voice behind him, snapping him out of his panic. He spun around so quickly it hurt his neck. There she was, in the flesh, and just as gorgeous as in her pictures. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

He smiled, “Don’t worry about it, Michelle. It’s great to meet you.” He pulled her into a hesitant hug, which she returned eagerly. “Shall we go in?”

She nodded and began towards the door. After _a lot_ of deliberation, he had decided on Bravo!, a nice-but-not-too-fancy Italian restaurant nearby. The hostess greeted them as they entered and immediately led them to a table. “Newt will be right with you,” she said with a smile as she handed them their menus.

“So, um, have you ever been here before?” Minho asked, pretending to look through the menu. He’d been here a thousand times and knew exactly what he wanted to order.

“No, I’m not that into Italian food,” she replied casually. After a moment, she blurted, “But its fine! I’m really excited about tonight, it doesn’t matter.”

Minho scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, I hope you find something you like.”

“I’m sure I will,” Michelle responded with a smile. They continued to look at each other awkwardly before, thankfully, their waiter arrived.

“Good evening, my name is Newt. Can I start you two off with something to drink? I can recommend some of our fine wines and champagnes if you’d like.”

Minho looked up from his menu to order but swallowed his words immediately. The man, Newt, was tall. Like, really tall. But not so that he looked gangly and awkward, but rather handsome and mature. His sandy hair fell into his eyes, which were a beautiful shade of blue. And to make matters worse, he had the most delectable British accent.

“Sweet tea, please,” Michelle said, interrupting Minho’s thoughts.

“Water for me,” he choked out, still bewildered.

Newt nodded and said he’d return shortly with the rolls. Suddenly, Minho was more excited for Newt to return than to talk to his date. Speaking of…

“So you mentioned that you’re a runner?”

He nodded, “Yep, I’m on the varsity team.”

“You go to Cal State, right?”

He refrained from rolling his eyes; he distinctly remembered having this conversation with her before. “UCLA, actually.”

She laughed, “Oh, my bad. What are you studying?”

They’d also had this conversation already. “Math.”

Newt returned at that time, thankfully. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I heard some of your conversation. You go to UCLA?”

Minho nodded, grateful to shift his attention to the handsome waiter. “I do.”

Newt set down the rolls and the oil before adding, “No way, me too!”

“What are you studying?”

“English and Chemistry.”

“Woah, interesting combination.”

The blonde shrugged, “Sure. I get to take a lot of different classes.” Suddenly, as if realizing he was intruding, he said with a gesture, “Here are your rolls. Are you ready to order?”

“Can I just get a Caesar Salad?” Replied Michelle.

“Will that be all for you, ma’am?”

She nodded politely before turning to Minho, who chuckled awkwardly. “Linguine Carbonara for me.”

“Excellent choice,” Newt responded with a smile, taking their menus. “I’ll put that right in for you.”

“He’s really talkative, isn’t he?” Asked Michelle, looking mildly annoyed.

“Just conversational.”

“Just, like, this is _our_ dinner, not his.”

Minho shrugged, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “I think he was just being friendly.”

Michelle huffed, “I guess. So anyway, math. That’s, um, neat. What do you want to do with that?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said, taking a bite of his roll. “I’m thinking about becoming a teacher.”

“So you’re on a pre-education track?” She pressed.

“Not yet, I haven’t really decided on anything yet.”

She reached for a roll, “But, like, if you’re a junior you should already have this figured out.”

He suppressed a groan. “We’ll see, I’ve got another year and a half. What are you studying?”

“Political science. I’m pre-law.”

Minho snorts internally. Figures. “That’s neat, what do you want to do with that?”

“I want to become a lawyer. Obviously.”

“Corporate or Criminal?”

“Corporate. State attorneys can handle criminal cases, I want to do something that really matters.”

Minho cocked an eyebrow. “My dad’s a criminal lawyer, I think it’s a really great job.”

“Of course it is,” she backtracked. “I just want to do something bigger.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And with that, he practically bolted from the booth. 

He sulked into the bathroom hall, making sure it was out of Michelle’s sight, and leaned against the wall with a frustrated huff. This date wasn’t at all what he’d imagined. He couldn’t just bolt, that’d be rude. Besides they’d already ordered food. But he didn’t know if he had the patience for this.

“Are you in the queue?” Asked a familiar British accent.

He gave newt a confused look before shaking his head no. Brits and their funny way of saying things. He gestured Newt forward. The blonde motioned to leave but stopped before he reached the bathroom door. “Are you ok?”

Minho shrugged, “I’ve certainly been better.”

“Let me venture a guess. Not the best date?”

“More like the worst. She seemed so cool when we talked, I don’t know what happened.”

Newt chuckled, “Better you know now than on your wedding day.”

Minho surprised himself by laughing along, normally a comment like that would annoy him to no end. “I don’t really know why I expected this to go well anyway.”

“Why’s that?” Newt asked. “It sounded like you guys had gotten along when you talked before.”

Minho shook his head, “This is weird, you’re my waiter, for god’s sake.”

“Think of me as your friend then.”

Minho sighed. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but he just felt so comfortable around Newt. “I’m not really into girls like her.”

“What do you mean? What kind of girls are into then?”

“Umm…the girls who, um, aren’t girls?”

“Really?” Newt asked, surprised but not at all judgmental. 

Minho nodded, avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t believe he just came out to a complete stranger. And his attractive waiter of all people.

“Well I have to run to the bathroom before getting back to work,” Newt started. Of course, Minho freaked him out. Before he could really begin to panic, Newt continued, “But I think I can make the rest of your date a little less miserable.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” the blonde said with a wink.

Bewildered, Minho returned to his date. He was still less than thrilled about it, but his mood had lifted significantly overall.

“Are you ok?” Michelle asked as he slid into the booth. “You took a really long time.”

Minho smiled, despite himself. “I’m great.”

As if on cue, Newt arrived with their dishes. He grated their parmesan and, after asking if they needed anything else, left quickly. Minho tried to give him an odd look, but he’d avoided eye contact through the entire exchange. He was thoroughly confused, this guy was giving him totally mixed signals.

“How’s the salad?” He asked, trying to shake Newt from his mind. He had much more important things to worry about, like how _delicious_ his food looked and how much better it would _feel_ inside of his stomach.

“Good,” Michelle replied curtly.

“I’m glad. This pasta dish is fantastic.”

She hummed in response and he stopped trying to force conversation. It wasn’t like he’d be seeing her again anyway. They ate the rest of their meal mostly in silence, only exchanging a few pleasantries. At least it looked as if she was just as miserable.

They finished quickly. Her because of her tiny meal and him, in contrast, because of his large appetite. Newt came promptly to clear their dishes. As he left, he added, “Can I get you anything for dessert? It’s on the house.”

“Why?” Michelle asked with a suspicious look on her face.

“The chefs would like to apologize for your orders taking so long. I’d like to recommend the tiramisu, it’s fantastic. And if you’re not a huge coffee person, we’ve got some smaller dishes that are really wonderful as well.”

Minho flashed him a smile, “That tiramisu sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Newt.”

“Just doing my job. And for you, ma’am?”

“Nothing for me, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Minho asked as Newt walked away. “It’s free.”

“I know, I’m not much of a dessert person.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Minho whispered under his breath. She made a questioning sound, to which he just shook his head.

“So, this was nice.” Michelle said, shifting in her seat. Then she openly checked the time on her watch and sighed.

“Uh, yeah. It was-”

Newt’s return spared him from the uncomfortable lie. The blonde waiter set down Minho’s dessert and the bill, which Minho grudgingly accepted. He slid in his credit card and handed it back to Newt immediately.

He scarfed down the dessert, too anxious to leave to enjoy the taste. A shame, really, it was truly a dessert to be savored. Just as he was finishing, Newt returned.

“You two have a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you,” Minho responded. “You too.”

As he went to sign the receipt, he nearly dropped it in surprise. Scrawled in the corner of the customer copy in an elegant handwriting was an unmistakable message.

310-843-2270 :)  
I never got your name, but I’d love to learn that and much more about you soon.  
-Newt

Minho smiled to himself. Even Michelle’s impatient huffs couldn’t dampen his good mood. This date didn’t turn out so bad after all. Who knew one date could simultaneously be the best and the worst he’d ever had. He knew one thing for sure, Bravo’s was definitely his favorite restaurant now.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoyed! And of course, likes/comments are always appreciated! All of my work is unbeta'd and I'm still figuring out formatting stuff so let me know if anything is spelled wrong or looks weird! Thanks!


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